


Perfect fit

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Series: Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 17:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12303807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: It started as part of an event at Jungle, when the queens adopted Stiles and satisfied his curiosity about dressing in clothes like theirs.





	Perfect fit

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for October 7: Crossdressing, Body Worship

It’s not something they do often, mostly because they don’t really have the time or privacy for it. But part of it is also that it’s not a big thing for either of them, not something they would _want_ at all times. It’s just one of the things they tried once, back when they were still in the experimental stage — not that they really left that one completely — and both found to be enough of a turn on that it stayed on the list of possibilities.

Derek likes what comes with it more than the actual clothes themselves. He likes how the thigh-highs are dark against the pale skin on Stiles’s legs, how the corset cinches his waist just right and rests against his chest, blood red on the paleness. He likes how the lace of the panties darkens over the tip of Stiles’s cock, how it’s stretched over the hardness. He likes the dress that Stiles wore over it before Derek unceremoniously pulled it off him.

It started as part of an event at Jungle, when the queens adopted Stiles and satisfied his curiosity about dressing in clothes like theirs.

But it’s not just about curiosity anymore, it’s just Stiles in pieces of fabric that hug his body in all the right ways, clothes that allow Derek to trace the edges and admire all the parts that he can and can’t see. It lets him take his time, brush over Stiles’s soft skin, murmur compliments as he kisses along the edge of the lace. It lets him tell Stiles all the things that he wants to say at all times, things that feel too sappy, too cheesy otherwise. It lets him worship every inch of Stiles’s skin as he slowly peels off the layers, as he gently pulls off the high-heeled shoes off Stiles’s aching feet.

They danced for hours, bodies close to each other, Stiles that little bit taller than Derek because of the heels. They moved in a rhythm perfected over the years, Derek’s hips against Stiles’s ass, his hands on his thighs. He brushed his thumbs along the top edge of the stockings, over the clasp of the garter belt’s straps, unseen to anyone around thanks to the floaty skirt of Stiles’s dress.

He’s doing the same now, but instead of just touches, he tugs on the clasps gently until they release, the straps falling to the side. Then he moves his hands higher, to the bottom of the lacy shorts that have ridden up and lodged into the dip of Stiles’s hip. He can feel Stiles moving impatiently, fidgeting like he used to when he was younger. Derek knows the reason for it now, he can scent and see Stiles’s hardness, knows that Stiles _wants_.

Derek’s not finished yet though, and he deliberately steers away from the cock under the lace, moves his hands above it, to where the corset is already loosened a little, resting against Stiles’s ribs.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and then kisses the soft gasp from Stiles’s lips. “You’re perfect.”

Stiles used to protest, used to fight compliments like this. Now his body arches up when Derek’s thumbs rub over his nipples, and he sighs softly. He’s blushing, the only sign that the words are registering in his mind. Derek straddles him, keeping his crotch just far enough that it’s not touching Stiles, then he splays his hands over the soft satin covering Stiles’s waist, and he smiles.

“I could just look at you for hours,” he says quietly. “I think I will.”

“Look with your hands,” Stiles says, breathless.

“Maybe,” Derek tells him with a smile.

He wouldn’t even try denying that he revels in the way Stiles sucks in his breath when Derek moves his hands up towards the top edge of the corset, his fingers rubbing over his nipples again.

The night has only just started.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)


End file.
